


Plus la meme chose

by abundantlyqueer



Series: Clueverse [5]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:19:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abundantlyqueer/pseuds/abundantlyqueer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who says you can't go home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plus la meme chose

  
Elijah pushes through the brass and glass revolving door from the hotel lobby, out into the gray drizzle of the street. He pauses, winding his scarf around his neck and tucking the ends into the front of his leather motorcycle jacket. Someone else comes out of the hotel, and passes him by. Elijah recognizes him from the back, despite a nondescript haircut and a thick woolen jacket that obscures the lines of his body. There's a bend of the head and a rounding of the shoulders that pierces Elijah with absolute certainty, and he calls out.  
"Orlando!"  
Orlando turns, already grinning at the sound of Elijah's voice.  
"Elijah -- Jesus!"  
"Orlando."  
They hug, bulky layers of jackets and scarves and sweaters blunting the contact between their bodies.  
"What are you doing in London?" Orlando laughs, pulling back just enough to look Elijah up and down.  
"Hey, I spend more time here than you do," Elijah says.  
"You look great man," Orlando beams, "though you need a fucking haircut."  
He glances his fingertips over Elijah's hair, over locks made lank by the misty rain.  
"And what's that thing on your face?" Orlando says, rubbing his knuckles across Elijah's chin, across the slightly haphazard growth of Elijah's beard.  
"Yeah well you look like fucking shit," Elijah says.  
Orlando quirks one eyebrow and shrugs one shoulder. He's tired and in faint need of a shave, but he's also tanned golden brown and moving with the weightless ease of someone who's through the worst of training for an action role.  
"You in a hurry somewhere?" he asks.  
"No, no, just gonna do a round of the music stores and stuff," Elijah says.  
"Come back in, then," Orlando grins. "Have a coffee or something ... I haven't seen you in ages."  
"Yeah, okay," Elijah says.

  
"And then there was Billy and Dom and that -- _potato thing_ ," Orlando laughs.  
"Ah God Jesus that thing was disgusting," Elijah howls.  
They're sprawled in two capacious chintz armchairs in the dim depths of the hotel bar. The debris on the table in front of them testifies to their progress from coffee to beer.  
"Do you think they were fucking?" Orlando asks suddenly, as if the possibility has just now occurred to him, ten years after the fact.  
"Who? Dom and the potato?" Elijah grimaces.  
"Dom and _Billy_ ," Orlando says, shoving Elijah's shin with his foot.  
" _Oh_. Yeah ... I mean, why wouldn't they? We were all doing whatever the fuck we wanted," Elijah says, his smile slipping out of focus a little.  
" _Whoever_ the fuck we wanted," Orlando says.  
Elijah picks his glass up, and looks down at the half-inch of golden liquid in it.  
"Yeah ... yeah," he says quietly. "It's ... it's different, it's a different world now."  
"Yeah," Orlando says, and then more sharply, "no, no it's _really not_."  
Elijah looks at him.  
"It's the same world," Orlando says firmly. "We're the same guys."  
Elijah snicks a slight laugh.  
"We got older, but they can't make us get wiser," Orlando says, his eyes sparkling.  
Elijah glances at him, then away.  
"You're -- you're still amazing looking," Orlando says, shifting forwards to the edge of his seat.  
Elijah makes a more deliberate but less successful attempt at laughter.  
"I like the beard on you -- I just can't imagine what it must feel like," Orlando says, leaning in towards Elijah.  
"To have a beard?" Elijah frowns in confusion.  
"To kiss you, now that you have a beard," Orlando says, letting his hand drop onto Elijah's knee.  
"This ... is insane," Elijah breathes. " _You_ are insane."  
"You could just say 'no'," Orlando smiles.  
Elijah glares at him, but doesn't speak. Orlando tilts his head slightly, and leans a little nearer.  
"Don't -- someone is going to see us," Elijah hisses.  
Orlando leans away again.  
"Come upstairs then," he says evenly.  
"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Elijah says.  
"You're not saying 'no'," Orlando smiles.  
"You haven't seen me for fucking ever and you think I'm just gonna -- "  
"I still love you, Lij," Orlando says.  
Elijah stares at him.  
"Oh God," Elijah says. "You fucking lunatic."  
"To love you?"  
"To _tell_ me."  
"It's suite two-ten," Orlando says, standing up.  
He takes his jacket off the back of the chair and walks away. Elijah groans out loud and then claps both hands over his face.  
"God, no one even calls me _Lij_ anymore."

  
Elijah thumps the side of his fist on the closed door, and Orlando opens it almost instantly. Orlando smiles crookedly as Elijah walks past him into the sitting room of the suite.  
"I didn't think you'd come," Orlando says gently, as he closes the door behind Elijah.  
"Well I didn't think you'd make a pass at me," Elijah says more sharply, and then, "you know what I hate about actors? We're all such bad fucking liars."  
Orlando moves towards Elijah, who throws his jacket and scarf down on the nearest armchair.  
"I just – we can't just _go back_ ," Elijah scowls.  
"I don't want to go back," Orlando says, moving into Elijah's space. "I just want to go _on_ , y'know?"  
Elijah's forehead furrows, but he lifts his hand to touch Orlando's arm, fingers stroking up along the sleeve of Orlando's sweater. Orlando narrows his eyes, and leans down a little.  
"Lij … " he breathes.  
Elijah grimaces, but he doesn't resist when Orlando leans down a little farther and brushes his lips against Elijah's. Elijah inhales Orlando's breath, and instantly every fiber of Elijah's body tightens in utter recognition.  
Elijah winds one arm around Orlando's neck and squeezes his eyes shut. Orlando touches his mouth to Elijah's again … softly, slowly moving his lips on Elijah's. Elijah takes a fistful of Orlando's sweater in each hand. His body melts; he's practically holding himself up with his grip on Orlando. When he parts his lips, and the tip of Orlando's tongue touches his, the sweetness of it pierces Elijah like electric honey. Orlando presses one hand to Elijah's back, and the other cradles Elijah's jaw.  
"Lij, Lijah," Orlando murmurs against Elijah's lips.  
Elijah's hands skitter up from Orlando's arms, and he buries his fingers in Orlando's hair and pulls him down, hard, hard enough to make Orlando growl. Right at this moment, Elijah can't believe that he hasn't been wanting -- _yearning for_ \-- this for years. And then he realizes that, in some small, secluded corner of himself, he has.  
There's a clash of teeth, bumped lips, a half mumbled apology that Elijah eats out of the heated slick of Orlando's mouth. Elijah fumbles both hands into the open front of Orlando's sweater, skimming his hands over Orlando's tee shirt.  
"… skin," Elijah says breathlessly.  
Orlando pulls back and shrugs his sweater off, dropping it on the floor. Elijah yanks his own shirt open and strips it off, while Orlando peels his tee shirt off over his head.  
Elijah hisses his breath in through clenched teeth, and winds his arms around Orlando's neck. The first glance of skin on skin is scorching hot.  
"Yeah," Elijah goads, baring his teeth and pulling Orlando in closer.  
Orlando's heavier than he used to be, flesh smoothing the angles of his bones, and tanned to a degree that would have put him in deep trouble in New Zealand … but Elijah knows the curve of his jaw and the line of his throat, the little pock of scar tissue under his collarbone and the dark ovals of his nipples.  
"I cannot fucking believe we're doing this again," Elijah murmurs, mouthing his way down Orlando's throat and across his chest.  
"I can't fucking believe we ever stopped," Orlando grins, cupping both hands on Elijah's ass. "Come on."  
He twists out of Elijah's arms, grabs his hand, and pulls him towards the open door of the bedroom. They practically fall over the threshold together. Orlando starts to unbutton his jeans. Elijah abandons whatever scrap of reserve has survived this far, and undoes his belt and zipper as fast as he can. They're both peeling off sneakers and jeans and socks, just flinging everything aside.  
" _Fuck_ ," Orlando grins as Elijah strips his underwear down off his hips.  
Orlando sits down on the bed, and leans back against the pillows. Elijah comes to him, kneeing up onto the bed and crawling halfway into Orlando's lap. Elijah's skin tingles everywhere it touches Orlando's -- shins and thighs and sides, and then his chest and arms.  
"God you feel ... like heaven," Orlando breathes.  
Their hands glance and slide. It's just as surreal to Elijah to touch Orlando's arm or his hand as it is to touch his nipple or the shaft of his cock. Orlando cups his hand under Elijah's balls and squeezes. Elijah groans, a deep guttural sound of pure pleasure. Orlando fumbles his mouth against Elijah's cheek, against Elijah's ear, until Elijah turns his face to him and kisses him deeply.  
There's no good angle, each of them in the other's way as they try to touch each other, but Elijah manages to get hold of Orlando's cock and slide the foreskin around enough to make Orlando hiss and wrinkle his nose in pure pleasure. Orlando reciprocates, or tries to, but Elijah tips his hips away.  
"Fuck, easy man, circumcised, remember?"  
"Shit, fuck, sorry," Orlando murmurs.  
"You got something to -- ?"  
"Mm, yeah, just -- "  
Orlando rolls aside, and reaches into the drawer of the nearest nightstand and comes up with a tub of Vaseline. Elijah watches him pop the lid, dab some into his palm, and rub his hands together.  
"Here y'go," Orlando says, shifting in again.  
He takes hold of the top of Elijah's cock and rubs slowly. Elijah gapes, grins, grips Orlando's arm with one hand.  
"F ... uck," Elijah sighs.  
"Yeah," Orlando breathes.  
For a moment Elijah just rides the slow rhythm of Orlando's hand on him, while Orlando presses his own cock into the curve of Elijah's thigh.  
"Fuck this," Elijah mutters. "Fuck me."  
"God, yeah."  
"Lie back," Elijah says.  
They roll, Orlando splaying out on his back. Elijah straddles him.  
"Throw that tub," he says, his voice more or less steady.  
Orlando passes the Vaseline. Elijah scoops a generous fingertip's worth and reaches around behind himself, smears it right into his ass, which is only too eager for this. Orlando takes a deep, shaky inhale and draws his knees up, tipping Elijah forwards a little.  
"Ready?" Elijah asks.  
Orlando nods solemnly. Elijah takes hold of Orlando's cock and tucks the head between the cheeks of his behind, easing it into place, and then bears down carefully. Orlando's cock pierces, slides, solid and sweet and stunning.  
"Jesus ... Fuck," Elijah says, with a couple of inches in.  
He eases up again, then down farther, and up, and then down all the way until he's sitting on Orlando's hips, with Orlando's cock plumbing straight up into him. Orlando grips Elijah's wrists tightly with both hands.  
"Okay?" Orlando asks hoarsely.  
Elijah nods. He starts to move, slow and easy, extricating one hand from Orlando's grasp and reaching back to hold Orlando's thigh.  
"Fu ... oh, yeah," Orlando pants.  
He digs his heels into the bed and lifts his hips to meet the downward slide of Elijah's strokes. The heat and friction inside Elijah eases a little, and he moves more freely, twisting his hips a little.  
"Fuck, you're fucking gorgeous," Orlando laughs breathlessly. "You were always _fucking gorgeous_."  
Elijah takes hold of his own cock, rubbing the head rapidly for a few strokes until he feels the metallic ring of his orgasm beginning, then stopping until it fades again, teasing himself over and over. Orlando throws his head back against the pillows, laughing and groaning at the same time.  
"Jesus ... oh God that's good ... yeah ... "  
Elijah puffs out his breath, trying to slow himself down.  
"Are you -- ?"  
"Yeah, I'm getting there," Orlando gasps. "Oh God."  
Elijah twists, rocks, plunges down the length of Orlando's cock, fearless and reckless and utterly consumed with making Orlando come.  
"Fuck -- _fuck_ ," Orlando grimaces, his body quivering under Elijah's hands.  
"Come on Orli," Elijah pants. "Come on."  
"Oh _fuck_ yeah," Orlando gasps, and Elijah feels his cock beating inside him, and Orlando's eyes open wide and he laughs out loud.  
" _Fuck yeah_."  
Orlando keeps moving, a smooth roll of his hips under Elijah, while Elijah rubs his own cock. His orgasm gathers together in a matter of seconds, and then blossoms into half a dozen sweet pumping pulses that empty him out and leave him gasping for air.  
"Oh God," he moans, folding forward onto Orlando's chest.  
Orlando strokes Elijah's hair, his back, whatever he can reach while he's pinned under Elijah.  
After several minutes, Elijah struggles upright again, pushing sweat-lank hair off his forehead.  
"I -- do you know how hard it was -- getting over us?" Elijah asks accusingly.  
Orlando presses his lips together, and nods.  
"Yeah," he says hoarsely. "It was -- too hard. I -- never really did it."  
Elijah lets go of an enormous sigh, a breath he doesn't remember holding.  
"Okay," he says, and then, laying his head down on Orlando's chest again, "okay."


End file.
